


Fight Me

by deathwave1



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: F/M, Humor, i honestly do not know what i was thinking, i think this could be qualified as crack, i wrote this instead of having christmas w my family oops
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-27
Updated: 2016-12-27
Packaged: 2018-09-12 13:21:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9073732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deathwave1/pseuds/deathwave1
Summary: Felicity was having a bad day, even before she got hit by a Subaru.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Based on [this](http://silverdoggy.tumblr.com/post/150565769637/officialcadbane-ohsebs-ohsebs-ohsebs) tumblr post.

If there was one thing Felicity Smoak really did not want to happen this morning, it was getting hit by a car. But since the universe seems to have a personal vendetta against her, she ended up in the emergency room anyway, with a concussion and a horribly fractured leg, after being hit by a goddamn _Subaru_ , of all possible vehicles, and while Felicity usually isn’t an overly judgmental person and doesn’t believe in the unfair stereotyping of drivers based on their vehicles, well, getting hit by a Subaru really doesn’t sound very hardcore.

So here she is, in an uncomfortable hospital bed, with a freshly-splinted leg, the only bright spot of her day so far being the _incredible_ painkillers they’ve put her on. Felicity is pretty sure that drugs this good usually aren’t legal.

She asks the first nurse who comes in (her name is Sara, and she’s one of those girls who make Felicity wish she was into girls because _damn_ ) to bring her more pillows. She thinks the exact number she asks for is somewhere in the thirteen digit range, but she’s not sure. The painkillers make it rather hard to think.

Fortunately (it could be seen as unfortunate, but in Felicity’s opinion, it’s one of the few positive events in this day that is shaping up to be an utter nightmare), Sara seems to take her seriously. The blonde nurse returns with a ravishing smirk and as many pillows as she can carry.

Felicity, of course, decides that the only reasonable course of action is to build a pillow fort in her hospital bed.

Obviously.

She’s actually proud of the result. It seems that all those trig and physics classes finally found their real-life application. She can lie down, do little half-crunches (not that she wants to. Felicity does not like exercise on a good day, and this isn’t one), and if she doesn’t wiggle her splinted leg too much, almost roll on to her side.

It’s as she’s lying in her pillow fort, watching the door through a crack in the side wall, that another nurse walks in, and Felicity kind of wonders if the Subaru actually killed her and she’s in some bizarre sort of heaven, because she swears every single person who works at this hospital is a celestial being descended to Earth. Or maybe a demon (succubi and incubi, perhaps?), because it cannot possibly be morally acceptable to be that attractive.

The nurse is a man, this time, which does appeal slightly more to Felicity’s heterosexuality than Sara (only slightly, because Felicity doesn’t think any sane, sexual person _wouldn’t_ let the blonde nurse do unspeakable things to them). He’s taller than her, which, while definitely a plus, isn’t exactly difficult. There is a reason Felicity wears heels all the time, and it’s certainly not because her feet enjoy them. He’s _built_ ; even through his scrubs, she can practically see his abs. He has a beard, but not in the creepy old man way, or the pretentious hipster way, in the _really_ attractive way where she kind of wants to find out if beard burn is a real thing.

Moving on.

“Hi,” he says, raising an eyebrow at the pillow fort she’s currently lying in, and oh God, his _voice_ is attractive. How is that even possible? Voices should _not_ be attractive.

Felicity’s brain-to-mouth filter is selective at the best of times. Clearly, these are not the best of times, because right now, it decides to shut off completely.

“Fight me,” she announces. The nurse blinks slowly, as if confirming that this bizarre girl lying in a pillow fort and challenging him to a fight (which is a notably awful idea; he is at least twice her weight and probably eight inches taller) is actually there, and not a truly surreal hallucination.

“What?” he asks, stepping up to the side of the bed, which allows Felicity a better look at his name tag. _Oliver_. Okay, so he has a pretentious white person name. That’s okay. She can work with pretentious, most likely rich white person.

“Fight me!” she repeats. “You’re so…” She reaches a hand out of her pillow fort to gesture vaguely at him. “Unnecessarily attractive,” she declares. “Like, most people get one attractive feature. You’re…” She gestures at him again. “You’re not fair,” she decides. “You stole all the hotness.” Somewhere in the back of her mind, she realizes that she sounds like a truly pathetic pickup line frat boys probably use. The _amazing_ painkillers, however, keep the thought in the back of her mind. “Fight me!” The nurse just laughs and starts lifting pillows off of her.

“Maybe later,” he agrees. “Keep the pillows under you, though, they’re a suffocation risk, and I can’t fight you if you can’t breathe, okay?”

“Okay,” Felicity grumbles, mentally swearing vengeance on the nurse for destroying her pillow fort.

  
XxX  


Felicity isn’t sure how long it is before Oliver comes in again. The painkillers are wearing off a bit, and she’s sipping water from a paper cup to distract herself from the growing throbbing in her leg. Then Oliver walks in and shoots her a small smile.

Felicity chokes.

She tries to swallow the water so she can say something witty. Instead, she inhales it, which may be a blessing in disguise, as her wit is awkward and babbling when she isn’t high on hospital painkillers and talking to the most obnoxiously attractive man she’s ever seen.

Of course, because nothing ever seems to go right for her, she doesn’t just choke. She starts coughing and wheezing, barely able to breathe. The thought crosses her mind that this is how she will die: choking to death on water in a hospital bed, while the hot nurse who caused the initial inhale watches in confusion.

Then she manages to swallow the water with a highly unattractive gagging noise, and Oliver smirks at her.

“Sorry,” she manages, her voice harsh from choking. “Normally I’m better at swallowing.” Oliver’s smirk widens, and Felicity groans and desperately wishes she was in her pillow fort again so she could hide from her embarrassment. “That was not what I was trying to say,” she mutters. “I mean it was, but I did _not_ mean it in–“

“Felicity,” Oliver interrupts. She blinks at him.

“How do you know my name?” she demands. He gives her a blank stare.

“You checked into a hospital,” he deadpans. “You gave your name at the front desk.”

“…oh,” she mumbles.

Then she starts coughing again. Oliver makes a breathy sound that she decides to interpret as a laugh, because this day is already bad enough without an incredibly hot nurse scoffing at her.

“I’m not going to fight you, by the way,” he tells her as he turns to leave. “I already know you’d win.” Felicity is almost glad he’s leaving, just so she can avoid having to embarrass herself further.

  
XxX  


Felicity _finally_ checks out of what she’s mentally named the Sex Demon Hospital almost four hours after checking in. She’s on crutches, carrying a list of everything she’s supposed to do with a concussion, and all she really wants to do is go home and sleep off the long list of horrifically embarrassing moments she’s had today. Only she can’t. Because she has to go home and call one of her friends to stay with her, and it can’t even be a _fun_ sleepover because she isn’t allowed to drink.

“Hey!” She looks up a bit at the shout as she shuffles her way across the cafeteria, but she assumes it isn’t for her. “Felicity!” Okay, maybe it is for her.

“Hey,” she responds dazedly as she turns. She’s greeted by the sight of Oliver, her _incredibly_ hot nurse, hurrying (and the way his muscles flex as he half-jogs is practically drool-worthy) across the hospital cafeteria towards her, carrying what appears to be a cup of coffee.

“Thanks,” Oliver says, laughing a bit, and she realizes, her face going bright red, that she said all of that out loud. “I bought you a coffee. You looked like you needed one.” With that, he hands her the cup. Felicity grabs it quickly and takes a long whiff. _Coffee_ , she thinks, letting out a moan at the smell that’s probably more than a little inappropriate for the current setting. She’s pretty sure she isn’t supposed to have caffeine with a concussion, and she’s _definitely_ sure that as a nurse, Oliver should know that, but she isn’t about complain.

She looks up to thank him, but he’s already gone. She glances around, blinking in confusion, but it’s as if he simply disappeared into thin air in the middle of the cafeteria. She would assume she imagined the entire encounter, but the coffee in her hands says otherwise.

Speaking of the coffee. She takes a long, scalding sip, and nearly moans again. _Caramel_. She glances down at the cup, but instead of the name of the drink on the side, _Fight me?_ is messily scrawled in Sharpie, above a phone number and what might have been a smiley face in a previous life.

Felicity turns bright red, and has to convince Roy (who is reluctantly staying with her) when she gets home that no, she is not still on drugs, she’s just happy.

**Author's Note:**

> I do not know. I just...do not know. Leave a comment and kudos if you enjoyed.


End file.
